


Ring, Ring

by alexcyprin (Megatraven)



Series: Lovestruck [10]
Category: Labyrinths of Astoria (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Reincarnation, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23024158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megatraven/pseuds/alexcyprin
Summary: MC feels the call to Olympus deep in her blood, not understanding what it means for her and her fate. (An AU where MC is Hera’s true reincarnation.)
Relationships: Hera & Main Character
Series: Lovestruck [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587814
Kudos: 9





	Ring, Ring

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the pieces of Astoria lore this fic uses:
> 
> -MC taking the backseat in her body when Hera awakens  
> -MC's soul being lost among the countless others that were overshadowed by Hera's  
> -MC feeling the call to Hera's throne the closer she is to Olympus
> 
> I'm sure there's more but I've been writing this for a couple hours and now it's 2 am and I'm Tired

The throne calls to her, sings to her blood and watches it dance beneath her skin.

It promises so much: immortality, power, respect.

But for all that it whispers in her ear, for all that it will give, she knows it would take away so much more. It would steal her very life, smother her soul, snuff out her light.

So in spite of the slivers of divinity that course through her body, the thrum of aura that waits to burst out... she turns her back on the throne and leaves.

(The song follows her well outside the throne room, and no amount of covered ears shakes it from her.)

-

She’s in the throne room again.

A few other gods mill about, waiting for Zeus to come and start their meeting. Something about stepping up security on Olympus, she thinks, but she can hardly get her thoughts in order to remember if she’s right or not.

Against her instinct to look away, the covered throne pulls her gaze to it. There’s familiarity there, arms that would welcome her home if she would only uncover it and sit.

Her legs almost walk her over, and she has to make a conscious effort to remain where she is. It takes so much more for her to tear her gaze away when Zeus finally does arrive, but still it calls to her. She doesn’t hear a word the gods say, watches their lips move but finds their voices drowned out by the hum of something _more_ that fills her veins.

When the meeting adjourns, she only realizes she should go when a passing god accidentally jostles her. She mutters some quick apology- a god would never apologize to a human, of course- and makes her exit.

The singing follows her down the golden elevator, finally stopping when she gets on a train.

(She’s lived in New York her entire life, and she’s never hopped on the wrong train until then- it takes her an extra half hour to get home.)

-

She hasn’t been on Olympus in weeks, and that’s how she knows it’s getting worse.

The lines written across her screen have been up there for hours, and she’s tried to get through them, absorb what they’re telling her, but it’s fruitless. Nothing sticks, no matter how hard she concentrates.

The allure of the throne is too strong, tugging at an invisible string that leads directly to her soul.

Someone says her name but she can’t focus enough to tell who, can’t look away from her screen that she isn’t really seeing as images of the throne fill her head. Its sweet whispers weave around her, and whatever reasons she’d built to fight against them begin to crumble.

Why was she fighting, anyways? She could go up to Olympus right then and-

A hand clamps down on her shoulder, shaking her out of her reverie. Cyprin looks down at her with concern in their eyes, and she strains to hear what they say.

They’re sending her home for the day.

She frowns but doesn’t argue, and maybe that’s the biggest sign yet that something isn’t quite right. She packs her things and leaves the office, and the further she gets, the more it feels like she’s losing a piece of herself.

(The song follows her home, now; she hums along with it as she stares up at the ceiling of her room.)

-

When she wakes up the next day, it’s not to her alarm, or her neighbors being a little too loud. It’s to the startling sight of the abandoned throne, not even a step away from her. The cover rests in her hands now, and the tightness that built up in her chest when she left H.E.R.A. the day before is nothing but a memory.

The pink robe falls to the ground at her feet and she finally, _finally_ looks upon Hera’s throne, in all its glory.

She finally feels like she’s where she’s meant to be.

All the pieces slide into place and she reaches forward, a lightness carrying her into the throne- _her_ throne.

A shout sounds behind her alongside frantic shuffling that gets closer and closer, but her aura springs to life then. Gold seeps from her ring, pouring out in droves and dripping from her skin like molten metal. It forms a wall, intricate and beautiful and _unbreakable,_ cutting her off from whoever wanted to sway her from her calling.

Time slows around her as she takes her seat, a jolt running through her when she touches the strong marble of the throne. Her vision blurs, or maybe everything is sharper than it’s ever been before, but then it’s gone, and the dark surrounds her.

(There’s only the song now, attached to nothing, blotting out everything else, and she wonders for the first time, however briefly, why it sounds so terribly sad.)

-

Slowly, she opens her eyes again, and takes in the world around her. Her shield still stands, but her head is clearer than it’s been in a long while, and she can see who stands on the other side.

It’s a plethora of gods, all watching her with shock- awe?- and then it hits heer, what she’s done.

She tries to stand, apologies filling her throat and tripping over each other trying to get out- but none come, and she’s still sitting, she realizes.

Her shield comes down in a rain of golden peacock feathers, settling on the ground before turning to dust.

And then she speaks- or someone speaks through her, because it isn’t her voice, they aren’t her words, and it _definitely_ isn’t what she wants to say.

“I’m back,” her body says, a strange voice in a familiar body. But not so strange that it doesn’t strike a chord with her. And it sounds so full of sorrow, the ache in the voice pulling at her heartstrings .

The gods all cheer for her and she can only wonder why.

Didn’t they hear the pain? The resignation, the... the fear? 

It was clear as day to her, and maybe that was just a side effect of whatever had happened, but it felt like so much more than that. How could understand so deeply the anguish of one she’s never even met?

(Though, a part of her whispers, perhaps it’s been someone she’s known all along. A strange familiarity that pulls at her seams and pushes the truth: she was never alone there, in her skin.)

-

A grand celebration is held for her return- Hera’s, that is. Most everyone is drunk in minutes when Dionysus breaks out his most sacred wines, though Hera refuses to drink.

And she’s grateful for that, because living in her own head and taking the backseat to her body made her somewhat fearful for what a hangover would be like. Would her little world waver and crumble and slip away?

She shook her head (no she didn’t), trying to focus on something else. I nthe corner of the goddess’ vision, she sees Aphrodite and Hades, engaged in private conversation. Except, they keep looking over at her, and it’s an odd feeling to see how sadness and joy war on both their faces.

Then Hera turns, and they’re thrust out of sight... only for Cyprin to come into view instead.

They hang back against the wall, a drink in their hand. It looks like they’ve already had a few, but it’s not enough to shake the frown loose from their lips. They’re watching her, and what must be the phantom feeling of her heart aches.

Hera watches them too, for a short moment, but it’s too much. She turns and leaves, and both are somehow sure that the gods wouldn’t miss her.

(In the midst of their quiet walk- past Zeus’ estate, she notes- she wonders if this is what it’d felt like for Hera for the past 25 years.)

-

“I’m sorry,” the goddess whispers.

It takes a moment before she realizes who Hera was speaking to, since no other soul was around.

The goddess was speaking to _her_. 

“I didn’t want this, not for you, not for me.” Hera heaves a sigh, and suddenly it feels like she’s taken Atlas’ place in holding the sky, her remorse crushing down on them both. “But I couldn’t resist Olympus’ call after all. The call is easy as breathing, so when I tried to stop...”

She remembers when she left H.E.R.A., and it was harder to breathe. She knew what the goddess was trying to say- ignoring the call was on the same line as trying not to breathe. You had to give in, eventually.

She tries to convey her understanding, and she’s not quite sure it gets through to the goddess, but she tries.

(It’s a constant struggle against the current of the goddess’ power, one she can’t seem to win. She begins to wonder if giving up is her only option to end whatever state she’s in- if it’s an option at all.)

-

Everything grows unbearable.

Hera is distant from the gods, and her loneliness speaks volumes. There’s a constant, lingering pain in the goddess’ heart that afflicts her own, one that runs so deep she isn’t sure the goddess could ever recover from such a thing. 

They see Cyprin, from time to time, but they can’t even stand to look at her. The few times they’ve been forced to speak to the goddess resulted in more hurt on all sides than anything else- they could never stop from slipping up and using her name; they could never bring themself to correct it. 

The goddess never punished them for it.

And then there was Aphrodite, who was once the goddess’ best friend. Now she only ever had sad smiles and haunted eyes when she looked upon them. Sometimes it felt like she stared so deeply into Hera’s eyes that she pierced the veil that isolated the body’s true owner. But nothing ever came of that.

Hades was just as bad. He could be civil, and he often wore his untouchable mask, but Hera saw right through him each time. Which, of course, meant she did too. She could see the guilt in the god’s eyes, the regret. 

All of it was too much.

And to top it all off... Zeus. He’d thrown himself at Hera, praised her, tried to love her, but everything he did made the goddess feel sick. It got so bad that she stopped leaving her own estate at all.

In the back of her own mind, she watched the goddess waste away, waste the life she’d given up, waste her body. No matter how she yelled, or how she tried to do _anything_ , nothing ever happened.

It drove her mad. Angry, yes, but she’s known anger before. Madness was a whole other thing, one that sometimes lead her to letting her conscience slip away. In those moments, she felt like she was drowning, pulled this way and that in an ocean of souls that had been washed away, overcome by the goddess’ own.

(She wasn’t ready to let go, but there was some comfort, she realized, in knowing that she _could_ let go.)

-

Hera’s first trip to Earth is what ruins her.

She hardly thought anything of it as the goddess stepped into the elevator. She’d been on Olympus for so long- too long- that what lived on the Earth’s surface almost slipped her mind. Or, rather, _who._

It was a punch in the metaphysical gut when those doors opened to May. May, her best friend, who’d wished her well on her way home the night before everything got turned on its head. May, who loved her, and who looked so utterly _broken_ and _betrayed_ at her appearance.

She whispers her name, and the goddess shakes her head sadly.

“Not anymore,” Hera says.

It breaks more heart than one.

The goddess leaves after that, quick, wanting to limit the pain as much as possible.

Her head is left swimming and everything hurts, but she’s strong. She’s made it this far, bearing the sorrow of Hades and Aphrodite, the heartbreak of Cyprin. She could bear a little more- she could hold onto May’s grief, too.

And then it all shatters- her resolve, her heart, her _world_.

Because, against all odds, fate wasn’t done with its twisted form of torture. It had thrown everything else at her- it wasn’t going to stop just to spare the heart of her brother.

Her brother, her Josh who’d watched her grow up and loved her enough to let the gods into his life, just a little bit, so he could understand her. Who always let her vent to him, and always knew the right thing to say to make the world seem okay again. Josh, who stood in front of her now, shock plain on his face.

It tears something out of her when he says her name, sounding more lost than she’s ever heard. The hope she hears lacing through his words is another blow to her heart and she almost lets herself drift away right then.

But she needs to see what happened- if not for her own sanity, than for Josh’s sake. It's her turn to listen.

Except he doesn’t say anything else. He backs away from her, tears streaming down his face. His breath hitches and there’s a haunted look in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since their mother died. She never wanted to see that look on him again, and yet there it was... because of her.

Everything blends and blurs together when he finally turns around and runs. She barely notices when the goddess uses her aura to teleport them back to Olympus, though it’s no relief to either of them. 

The darkness that’s threatened to pull her in before, the sea of souls that cry a melancholy wail she recognizes as the song that pulled her to the throne- it ebbs away at her.

And this time she doesn’t resist it, doesn’t step out.

She allows herself to be washed away, her vision fading quickly. All of her senses become dull, a ghost of their former selves, and it’s easy again.

(She’s Hera, and that’s that.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Comments and Kudos appreciated!
> 
> If you'd like to request something, or just talk about lovestruck in general, you can send an ask to my sideblog @official-alex-cyprin on tumblr! Any requests I receive for characters I haven't met/played through yet will be saved in my inbox until I have met/played them!


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